


Written

by Sayonara_Abayo



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:52:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7528090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sayonara_Abayo/pseuds/Sayonara_Abayo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story is set three years after the end of Durarara Ketsu:  Izaya has now become a writer and hasn't seen Shizuo in years.<br/>An unexpected reunion will take place, renewing long forgotten feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Randezvous

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time publishing something I've written myself. It is also my first time writing entirely in English (I'm not native), so I'd appreciate any suggestions and corrections. The chapters are short, since I'm mostly writing this for practice, but if you find any mistakes, please tell me! I really want to improve my language skills. Thanks for your attention, please enjoy! ^^

 

 

 

 

He brushed off the covers and got up, no care at all for the sleeping person on the bed. He collected his clothes and quickly started dressing. No _goodbyes_ or _see you soon_. He didn't even look at him before exiting the house. "I'm free this Saturday", he'd said the night before. " _How convenient_ ", thought Izaya, smiling sarcastically. When he finally decided to get up and dress, it was almost late for work. He crawled down the bed and checked the bruises on the mirror. He'd be able to cover them this time, too. "Now off to work".

-

Acquiring that much money in a completely legal way still made him laugh a little. To think he'd spent half of his life selling informations in the slums of Ikebukuro until some years before... Laughable, really. Life, that is. How laughable.  
The staff was already preparing everything for the signing. The table was all set up: books piled up next to a fancy black stilo pen and a cup of ice tea. Almost ready, now. He sat comfortably on the chair, waiting for the first fans to come, crossed legs, fixing his glasses. He took one of the books and started handling it between his hands. " _The Giant_ " read the cover, written in bold red letters over a pitch black background. Soon, people started to come and in no time the room was crowded, fans waiting in line to meet the great _Nakura_.

"Now, shall we begin?" He smiled and welcomed everyone.  
Conversing with each of them was easy. They never asked anything he didn't know the answer to, so he quickly dismissed everyone with a smile and a _thank you_. From time to time, he gave a handshake or took a picture with them, listened to the reasons they loved him and his twisted love stories, and tried to appear as sociable as ever. It was a job that, just like his former one, required to be friendly with the right people.  
A while had passed, but the line didn't seem to shorten. He felt really tired and considered taking a break. He went over the crowd with a quick glance and rapidly calculated how many more books he had to sign before calling a lunch break. _Two, maybe three more_.

He sighed and put a fake smile on. He accelerated his pace, scribbling his name mechanically on the pages. He put his hand on his pocket to reach for his cellphone and check the time. _Five more minutes to go_.

Now the last fan was probably standing in front of him. Smile on, he prepared to greet them kindly and finally go grab something to eat. He was starving already. He raised his head and started "So, who's this for..?".

He freezed.

Suddenly, he was no longer hungry... no, he couldn't even feel his stomach. Every inch of his body seemed to go numb as his eyes stared into the other man's.

 -

  Waking up so early in the morning usually annoyed him to the point that he managed to smoke a whole package of cigarettes in no more than two hours, but today was different. The air was light and somehow fresher than usual, carrying a much cleaner scent. He took his time to shower and grab a bite for breakfast, than dressed and put on his sunglasses. A new day meant a new job, and this was probably a heavy one, considering how early he had to wake up. He left the house, door unlocked, as nobody would ever dare to steal from the strongest man in Ikebukuro.  
Once out, he called for Tom: they agreed to meet in front of his house, but there was no one there. He ventured a little further in the streets surrounding the building, and finally stumbled upon his friend curiously looking at a flyer laying on the floor. He looked up and noticed the familiar figure.

"Oh, sorry Shizuo!" smiled Tom, quickly approaching him. "I got a bit distracted on my way, _see_ ", he handled him the flyer he'd picked up earlier. It was a pretty plain flyer, no pictures or typoghraphical extravagancies, just a pitch black background and bold, red letters. Shizuo took it in his hands and looked closely, his eyes widening as he recognized the font and quickly started reading.

"This is... is Nakura signing books nearby?"

Tom smiled and nodded.

"So it really is that writer you like so much! I tried reading his books but they're just... too complicated. I'm surprised you're into that."

With a small movement of the head, Shizuo agreed. Nakura always wrote in a confusing way. His stories always took unexpected turns, they weren't easy to follow. But once you got into his web, you couldn't help but will to read more and more. He folded the flyer with care and put it in his pocket.

"Can I go home as soon as I finish the job, Tom?".

His friend looked at him with a peaceful smile on his face and nodded.

"We'll make it quick so that you have time to check on this writer, alright?"

Shizuo smiled and started walking faster. For the first time in a while, he felt he'd enjoy some free time.

 

The job had been pretty tiring, but he still had plenty of energy. He took off right after finishing and quickly got home. He grabbed the book he'd left so casually laying on the sofa, checked for any damage to the cover or the pages, and was ready to go meet the author. Before leaving, he stopped in front of the mirror to timidly fix his hair. The messy haircut let some blonde strands stand on their own. He shrugged and decided it was best not to try too hard. He then left, setting off for his destination.  
He reached for the flyer in his pocket and unfolded it, looking for the address.

After walking for a while, he looked around and saw a building entrance with arrows pointing inside. A bigger version of the flyer stood right next to it. He smiled and took his sunglasses off, storing them in the pocket of his vest. When he entered the room, all sorts of people were crowding it, forming what it looked like a line with no end. Even with his height, he couldn't manage to peek on the writer, completely covered by the crowd. He gave up on peeking and stood behind the last person, patiently waiting for his turn. He didn't know anything about Nakura. There was no biography in the books he'd read, and readers were left with the small piece of information that he was a young male writer with an interest in people. He tried to imagine what he looked like based on his writings, but nothing came to his mind.

Curiousity made him impatient, so he decided to look around and see what the other readers looked like. Literally every demographyc was represented. Young and old, male and female, Japanese and foreigners. His fanbase was - just like him - confusing. He watched as the line shortened in front of him, excitment growing inside his chest. It was a feeling he wasn't accostumed to, with the routinary life he led.  
Just another person in front of him. He didn't want to peek and looked at the book the whole time instead. As he felt the other person moving away from his sight, he approached the table and waited for Nakura to lift his eyes from the phone and look at him. Now that he was so close, curiousity devoured him. Finally, the writer rose his head and smiled at him.

"So, who's this for..?"  
As their eyes locked, he felt his blood stop and could not breathe. It couldn't be. This wasn't happening. The Nakura he'd been anticipating all the time couldn't be him. Time seemed to stop and he couldn't manage to speak a single word. Three years had passed, and he was now looking him in the eyes. Once again.

 

" _Izaya..?"_


	2. Reminiscence (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief but intense meeting with Shizuo, recounted by Izaya. Part 2 will be recounted by Shizuo instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time publishing something I've written myself. It is also my first time writing entirely in English (I'm not native), so I'd appreciate any suggestions and corrections. The chapters are short, since I'm mostly writing this for practice, but if you find any mistakes, please tell me! I really want to improve my language skills. Thanks for your attention, please enjoy! ^^

" _Izaya..?"_ whispered Shizuo, standing in front of him.

  
Of course he'd recognize him. Three years had passed, but they couldn't even hope to erase everything that had happened between them. Blood rushing through his veins, memories flooded uncontrollably, with vividly detailed scenes moving back and forward in front of his eyes. What was he supposed to do now? Certainly, the other must had perceived the shock he was in, but that couldn't be it. He couldn't allow the beast to be unleashed and ruin everything. He had to retake control.  
"I'm guessing that's not your name, right?" he smiled again, opening the book ready to sign it. "What's the name of this reader eagerly waiting in line to have his book signed?", he asked with a soft smirk.  
"Don't fuck with me" was the answer, no more hesitation in the man's voice.  
He could feel the tension rising, so he decided to end it before he could damage anything inside the room, including his reputation. He scribbled something on the first page of the book and returned it to the owner with a " _Thank you and good bye_ " that were just a polite way to send him away. As the man left unexpectedly calm, he felt like all the oxygen had vanished and he couldn't breathe. He needed some fresh air.  
Keeping up his smiling facade, he announced a half an hour lunch break and left the room in a hurry.  
The air outside was fresh and somehow cleaner than usual. The noisy city in the background didn't seem to disturb him, now that he had some moments alone. He stared at the bright, clear sky and wondered how life could play such tricks so unexpectedly. "That was a surprise" he thought, smiling bitterly. An unpleasant yet somehow familiar smell of tobacco unwillingly filled his nostrils.

"Such an unexpected turn of events" he started "How _nostalgic_ ", he turned his head towards the man approaching him.

Now they were face to face, so close that the smell of cigarettes left no space for fresh air in his lungs. He looked him in the eyes with anticipation, staring deep down those brown irises. Maybe he'd hit him? He really didn't want to fight, those days were gone already. He had no time to waste on childish quarrels.  
The blonde man estinguished the cigarette with a step right next to him and returned the stare. Again, he acted unexpectdely and started talking without even touching him.

"What's the meaning of _this_?" he asked.

Izaya smiled ironically, "What do you mean?". As if he really didn't know what he meant. How much of a shock must have been for Shizuo to be in that situation.

"I didn't expect you to like my books. I didn't even think it was possible for someone like you to actually _understand_ them."

For a moment, the other's expression seemed to give in to rage, but he quickly recovered and got even closer.

"I said what's the meaning of this?" he continued, stressing the words with pauses.

"You seem to control your rage way better than the last time I saw you. Congratulations!", said the writer as he tried to get away from his grip. Escaping was the only thing he could do, his body still weak from the past injuries. "I write books for a living now. I'm not pestering you like the old times. What do you want from me?" he asked, hands in the pockets of his long black coat as he tried to shield his body from a sudden cold breeze that seemed to come from nowhere. In his old enemy's eyes, a mixture of disappointment and bitterness as he noticed how frail his body looked under the fabric.

"What, are you pitying me?" said Izaya as he noticed the stare."I seem to be slow at recovering.", he laughed bitterly.

He took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. His stomach hurt and he wasn't hungry, but staying there any longer would have killed him.

"Break ends in 20 minutes and I still haven't had any lunch. If you'll excuse me."

He turned around and left, walking down the road. Behind him, Shizuo stared at his back moving further and further, speechless.


End file.
